Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord-Chapter 100: Pirates, Cultists, and the Extraordinary

On the Storm Ocean, off the coast of Castel.

A pirate ship with black sails approached a small sailboat nearby, forcing it to lower its sails and slow down.

"Hey, you can’t do this!"

The first mate stepped to the ship’s railing, raising his head to shout at the towering pirate ship.

"We are a ship of the Candlelight Church, look at the sacred emblem on board! Besides, there’s nothing valuable on this ship. We’re just transporting prisoners!"

A figure wearing a black tricorn hat appeared at the edge of the pirate ship.

He grabbed a rope and swung lightly a few times before stepping onto the side of the sailboat in one agile motion.

The first mate glanced at the flintlock pistol at his waist and took a few steps back.

"We are of the Candlelight Church… uh, the sacred emblem, see—"

Jeremiah glanced at the sacred emblem with a blank expression, then fixed his gaze on the first mate’s eyes, his hand resting on the guard of his scimitar.

"S-Sir! My Lord! You must have something you want to ask! I’ll tell you everything! There isn’t any cargo in the cabin, but we do have plenty of fresh water. I—"

"Where is your captain?"

"I’m here, I’m here!"

A man beside him quickly put on a fawning smile and carefully moved forward.

"What did you deliver to Castel?"

"Prisoners, ah, no, a group of people who might be contaminated, but it’s not entirely certain."

"Any cargo? Like timber or steel?"

The captain was stunned for a moment and then shook his head.

Jeremiah’s expression immediately darkened.

The month was almost up, yet there was still no sign of what that lord had promised.

He had been wasting time here for too long.

Other than a scuffle with the Silent Sanctum’s small-framed members, he had gained nothing.

Damn it, had he really been deceived?

"How are things on the island lately?"

"Uh, that lord seems to be hosting a banquet… but I don’t know much else. My ship only dropped off prisoners, resupplied, and then set sail again."

"A banquet? When?"

"Should be today…"

Jeremiah stood on the deck, his gaze sharp as an eagle’s, fixed on the distant Castel Island.

The towering volcano pierced the sky, and the mist at its peak glowed harshly under the setting sun.

The pirate ship unfurled all its sails.

The winds of the Storm Ocean howled, as if playing the overture to the storm that was about to come.

Chloe stood inside the church.

The night breeze brushed against her cheeks, carrying a hint of coolness.

Her fingers absentmindedly traced the invitation in her hands, but her thoughts had long since drifted away.

Not far to her left was a trapdoor that led downward to the secret stronghold of the Moths Chasing Fire.

All of the cult’s power in Castel was gathered here.

Now, where should she lead the Moths Chasing Fire next?

"Chloe, are you still thinking about that banquet?"

A voice came from behind, tinged with concern.

She walked up to Chloe, her gaze also falling on the invitation in her hands.

Chloe turned to see Lena, one of the followers who had migrated from the Empire with her.

She was one of the pillars of their cult.

"Yes."

Chloe nodded, her voice low.

"Lena, what do you think of Count Hughes… really want? He could have declared war on us, but he didn’t. He even gave me this, as if… he wants to show goodwill."

Chloe had led the cult in wandering across the continent for a long time, but the followers of Moths Chasing Fire had never encountered such a situation.

Every previous lord had either hunted them down mercilessly or, at best, turned a blind eye while demanding their immediate departure.

Lena was silent for a moment before speaking softly.

"I also find his actions strange. Logically, we, the Moths Chasing Fire, are his enemies. There’s no reason for him to spare us… unless he has another motive."

"A motive?"

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Chloe frowned.

"You mean, he wants to use us?"

"Maybe."

Lena sighed.

"But it’s also possible that he’s testing us… or perhaps he isn’t what we thought, a cultist himself. Maybe our assumptions were wrong? Maybe he’s just someone chasing knowledge?"

"Impossible. You saw it yourself yesterday, those foreigners, never mind whether they came from the sea. Extraordinary beings who pursue knowledge… how does he avoid contamination and losing control?"

"Uh… maybe, like us, he has a descent ritual similar to the Lord of Moths?"

Lena’s voice trailed off.

Even she didn’t believe her own words.

The followers of Moths Chasing Fire had spent centuries perfecting their descent ritual just to freely pursue knowledge.

If it were that easy, they wouldn’t be hunted everywhere like criminals.

"There’s actually a much simpler possibility—he just doesn’t understand us yet.

He doesn’t realize the dangerous things we are doing. Once he knows a little more, he’ll panic and drive us out."

"Ah…"

Lena was stunned.

"Enough with the ‘ah.’ Go fetch Isaac. I need to discuss the banquet with him."

"You… you’ve decided to go, Chloe?"

"There was never a choice. This Count never left us another option."

Chloe shook her head.

In the depths of the stronghold, a tall man silently examined the markings on the floor.

"Mr. Isaac, Chief Chloe is looking for you."

The man turned around, and Lena saw his face under the candlelight.

His features were sharp and chiseled, with an ugly scar running across both his eyes.

A cloth strip was tied simply around his face, covering them.

He was certainly blind.

Yet he seemed to see, nodding slightly to Lena before silently walking toward the stairs.

Lena quickly stepped aside.

Only after Isaac pushed open the door and left did she let out a breath and look inside the room.

The complex, twisted markings on the ground resembled a labyrinth, all pointing toward the center of the room.

There, in the middle, was a massive box wrapped tightly in fine silver chains.

Lena saw the box tremble slightly, as if something inside was pressing against the boards.

"You can’t come out yet, Lord Outer God.

We need to find a place free of corruption before we can undo the seal. Otherwise, you will be polluted again."

She murmured softly.

"After all… you are our last hope."

Between the Thrones, the body of Worker Hughes slowly lowered its head.

"Still no communication. I don’t even know where they’ve locked me up."

Hughes sighed.

"I originally wanted to gather some intelligence before the banquet, but it looks like there’s no time."

He had tried multiple times today to descend into Worker Hughes’ body, but each time, he found himself trapped in a pitch-black, confined space with no way out.

"Forget it. I’ll just talk to the Moths Chasing Fire directly at the banquet tonight. For now, let’s continue testing."

"Let’s see if I can use Mind Link here."